


Of Coronets and Control

by junes_discotheque



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Rimming, mentions of spanking, royal!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junes_discotheque/pseuds/junes_discotheque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is a young prince on the cusp of Kinghood. Hannibal is his adviser, who would certainly be much more devious if his charge weren't so infuriatingly beautiful and his attempts at seduction so difficult to resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Coronets and Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magnetism_bind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/gifts).



Will is slouching again.

He's draped sideways over the golden throne like he'd rather be back in bed (and, judging by the dark bruises under his eyes, he probably would) and the circlet sits askew atop his unruly black curls. Hannibal Lecter—philosopher, physician, lesser noble and first adviser to the Crown—restrains himself from going over and correcting the young prince. He's not a boy anymore, after all; in two short weeks he will come of age and be crowned King.

It's still difficult for Hannibal to believe. He has watched the prince grow from a troublesome baby into a somewhat gangly young man with wide blue eyes and no regard for his duties. It is unendingly frustrating. 

Hannibal longs to grab him by the arms and force him to sit properly, fix the circlet on his head, instruct him to for once act like a king and not the child Hannibal once was tasked in correcting.

But it would be unseemly, for more than a few reasons. The assembled noblemen would like nothing better than to prove Will unready to assume the throne, so that the council—with Hannibal at the helm, of course—could continue to rule as custodian. And then, of course, there's the way Will is sticking the tip of his tongue between soft pink lips and staring at Hannibal.

~ * ~

Nearly ten years ago, a freak hunting accident had resulted in the deaths of the King and Queen. The particulars were hushed up, of course, and the affair had been treated as nothing more than an unfortunate act of God, and any foul play had been summarily investigated and dismissed. Will had been a child of only eight. And with that, Hannibal became custodian of the throne, surrogate father, and wrangler of the high council.

And, frankly, he's sick of it.

Politics has never been his strength. Ruling hasn't, either, especially as a foreigner who somehow managed to gain the King's favor. Hannibal had thrived under Will's father, but he fears his considerable talents have stagnated under his own rule. Whispering poisonous words into the ears of those with power tends to lose its luster when the one with power is oneself. Which is why, despite the protests of the council, Hannibal is determined to see Will take the throne on his eighteenth birthday.

It's also why he only grinds his teeth when Will lets out a loud yawn and stretches and jostles the circlet off his head. It falls to the floor with a deafening clatter.

The lords stare at him.

“I have important... things to discuss with my adviser,” Will announces, and Hannibal doesn't miss the way Will no longer refers to him as his teacher. He is proud and irritated all at once, though the way Will is staring at him with burning eyes makes him lean towards the latter. Will has been making increasingly blatant attempts at seduction in his direction for months. The boy must finally be fed up with Hannibal's apparent obtuseness. “Out, all of you!”

They shuffle out reluctantly. Not enough to be disrespectful, but more than enough to show their disapproval of the child-king. Hannibal watches them with a fierce eye. Once his boy is King, Hannibal's first duty will be to ensure the loyalty of the entire council. By any means, up to and including finding a new council.

After the door closes with a heavy bang, Hannibal leans over the throne. “My prince,” he says, his voice deepening and his accent thickening. He doesn't miss Will's shudder. “Was that wise?”

“Well, I suppose I could have let them stay, but I didn't want them to see.”

“And what would they see?” Hannibal asks. A wide smirk creeps across Will's face. He regrets asking.

He regrets it even more when Will grabs hold of his adviser's silk cravat and hauls himself forward, smashing his lips clumsily against Hannibal's. It's quite obvious the boy has no experience—but, of course, Hannibal knew that. He's taken his duties as Will's guardian seriously these past ten years. The young prince barely leaves his sight.

As difficult as it is, Hannibal pulls away from Will's sweet lips. “My prince, you do not know what you ask.”

“Please,” Will begs instead. His eyes are shining and his pink lips are dark and wet and it takes all of Hannibal's considerable restraint to keep denying him. He has always believed the most delicious meals are the ones that take time to prepare, after all. And he makes all of Will's meals himself.

“Control yourself,” Hannibal says, disapproval dripping from the words.

Will's face falls. He folds his hands in his lap and bows his head, though he keeps watching Hannibal through his long, dark lashes. Hannibal can't resist placing a hand on his messy curls.

“I wonder if you are ready to be King,” he murmurs. 

“You have taught me so much,” Will says. “Please, I wish to continue my education.”

“I will make you a bargain,” Hannibal says, pitching his voice deeper just to see Will shudder. “If you can restrain yourself for the rest of the evening, and all through tomorrow's Council meeting, I may, if you are very good, give you a thorough lesson.”

Will squirms in his chair. “But--”

“Ah, ah,” Hannibal says. “Now, go to your room. I will be up shortly with your supper.”

“Yes, sir,” Will says, standing and bowing—most likely just because he knows how much Hannibal likes it when the prince shows him due respect. Oh, how he would love to have the boy on his knees, rich robes splayed over the dusty palace floor, forehead pressed to Hannibal's boots while he murmured desperate pleas. But Hannibal has demanded patience, and so must be patient himself.

“Go,” he says, and Will jumps to obey, scurrying out of the hall while Hannibal composes himself. 

~ * ~

Will is on his very best behavior the following day. He sits politely during the meeting and only yawns twice, and he listens intently during the weekly audience. His judgments are fair and well-thought, and Hannibal finds himself glowing with pride at the boy's focus.

It isn't until he arrives at Will's chamber that evening with his meal that he thinks to suspect anything further. 

The young prince is splayed obscenely on his silk sheets, quilt thrown hastily aside, and he wears only a thin white shirt. His erect cock is pushing at the bottom of the fabric and his cheeks are flushed. Hannibal nearly drops the platter in shock.

“Please,” the boy begs, spreading his long, delicate legs. “You promised.”

“I did,” Hannibal says. “But you misbehaved yesterday, and today you yawned twice at the Council meeting, and this display... I will give you what you want, my prince, but first I believe you deserve to be punished.”

Will makes a noise that's somewhere between a sob and a moan, and little tears gather at the corners of his eyes. “Please,” he begs again.

Hannibal pushes Will's legs to his chest and then spreads them, wide, and orders Will to hold himself open. The prince obeys, his pale fingers wrapping around his knees. Satisfied, Hannibal crouches low to inspect his charge.

He has seen Will nude before, of course, but he has never seen Will like this. His hole is pink and tight and Hannibal can't resist giving it a tentative lick. Will nearly screams, dropping one of his legs in shock. Hannibal grunts and forces him back into position.

“Do not falter again, or I shall stop and take you over my knee instead,” Hannibal warns him. Perhaps he will do that anyway; Will always had the most interesting reactions to being spanked.

He flicks Will's hole just to see how he'll react, and Will doesn't disappoint. He jumps a foot in the air and yelps, tight hole clenching tighter, but he doesn't let go of his thighs. Hannibal is proud, and he drags his tongue over Will's hole again.

Hannibal opens the boy up with sharp jabs of his tongue and his fingers, ensuring that while he will still be tight and the fucking will be uncomfortable, it won't be more than Hannibal knows he can handle. He wants to see Will come apart under his hands. He wants to see Will's face screwed up as he forces himself to take Hannibal's thick cock. He wants Will to come before Hannibal gives him permission, and he wants to punish Will for it before taking him again, and again, and--

“Please,” Will begs. “Please, Hannibal, please, I love--”

And that's when Hannibal flees.


End file.
